The plan was to attend Easter brunch with my family two weeks ago, but we never made it. Instead we spent our Sunday on a delayed flight out of Midway, unable to participate in the annual egg hunt in Nana's garden. We were crushed. Well, I was crushed. Mainly because I'm emotional and can't stand not being with my family for parties, specifically ones thrown in Nana's garden involving hard-boiled eggs (which I still cannot get enough of). Because Nana's was always a magical place, especially on Easter, when my cousins and I pretended we were garden fairies and flapped our puff-sleeved dresses until we collapsed in a pile of half-eaten Cadbury Cream Eggs. Because I don't want my children to miss out on any memories, specifically those involving fairy gardens.

So over the weekend, while in San Diego to celebrate Mother's Day, we had ourselves a little make-up Easter egg hunt in Nana's garden. Two weeks late? Yes, but whatever. The kids painted eggs in the morning and hunted for them in the afternoon and we all gorged ourselves on hard-boiled eggs. Magical indeed.